Inseparable
by Maddie-the-Cattie
Summary: A never-ending series of one-shots devoted to James and my FC, Sierra. All ratings are possible; Most will be K -T. Full summaries and extra information inside.
1. Lost

**Lost**

_A Sierra and James Fiction_

Based on the characters created by Scott Fellows and Madison H.P.

*Madison H.P. is me, my first name, middle and last initials.

**Summary**: Two young souls, out on a scavenger hunt... _What could go wrong?_

**Genre(s)**: Friendship/Adventure/Mild Angst

**Ages**: James: 12

Sierra: 11

**Rating**: K+

**Warnings**: EXTREMELY mild violence; Possible KendallXJames fluff.

**And thus, this begins my first one-shot in a never-ending series of one-shots dedicated entirely to the _Big Time Rush _character, James Diamond, and my Fan-Character (FC), Sierra Dianne. (Plus their future baby, whom is to be released at a much later time than this. ;)) These one shots will NOT (necessarily) be in chronological order, BUT, I will tell you the ages of James and Sierra (And child, or any other major characters, if applicable) at the beginning of the particular one-shot. However, they may have some relation to one another (obviously) and that being the case, I'll tell you before you to see chapter(s) whatever to understand said one shot better. If it bothers you that much, I guess I could figure something out, but I really don't want that many stories cluttering up my documents, both on site and on my computer itself... (To have to put it in chronological order, I mean. Because I'm not working entirely in chronological order. Call me crazy, but I've realized over the years I work better just coming up with stuff as I go along.)**

**Now, this first one... It is EXTREMELY long, as far as one-shots go. I doubt many will be this long, but bear with this one, because, as long as it is, it is twice as important in the developing of their relationship. Besides, I quite like it. I worked hard and long on it, and I put a lot of thought into it, so... Sorry for such long comments, now you can read it. ^^;**

**Also, please note, that in the story, even if it's in (parenthesis), and it sounds like an author's note, it's still being told in it's respective character's perspective, unless it says: (A/N: blah, blah, blah...) You'll see what I mean when you read it.**

**Again, terribly sorry for the length of these comments. They won't normally be this long.**

"_I'd hate to think all you have of me is a memory; I loved you."_

"What Can I Say?" by Carrie Underwood and Sons of Sylvia

_James's Perspective_

"We're lost," Sierra wailed, for the millionth time. I'd tried convincing her we weren't lost, then, when that didn't convince her, that we'd find our way back, then, when even _that _didn't work, that someone would find us before anything else could get us... But she was _not _helping the situation by crying at the top of her lungs. I rounded on her.

"Sierra, look," I snapped. "I'm just as scared as you are right now, and _I'm _not crying! You are not helping at all by screaming like that to attract the attention of wild animals. Now _please_, shut up!"

Sierra flinched at my words.

"And think rationally about this," I added in a hiss.

Sierra sniffled, and I have to admit... She looked simply heartbroken.

"Sorry...," I muttered in a halfhearted attempt to make amends with my best friend at the camp. "But just, you know... Stop _that_..." I gestured in a certain way to emphasize my words.

Sierra nodded in response, dirty-blond curls bouncing. She didn't say anything, which was quite unlike her...

I think I scared her. I didn't mean to, but I guess stress got the better of my temper.

See, we weren't normally like this. We were inseparable, some of the best of friends. She was just as close to me as Carlos, Kendall, and Logan were back at home. We did everything together at the summer camp.

(A/N: Begin "flashback")

… Which is how we ended up as partners for a scavenger hunt that went entirely wrong when a tree fell straight across our path. Sierra and I had decided to go around the tree... And _that's _when the wolf appeared. The sound of the tree hitting the ground must have attracted its attention...

At first, we stood really still, hoping that the wolf would just go away without bothering us... But then it started growling at us...

And it started snapping its jaws at us, flashing those fierce, canine teeth...

_And it started coming closer..._

Now, I know that they say that when you encounter a dangerous, wild animal, _not _to run-That they're faster than you...

But heck, I'd like to see them say that when there's one right in front of them.

Sierra whimpered, backing away slowly... Dragging me with her... All the while, we didn't stop looking into the wolf's eyes... Those piercing eyes...

"Don't move," I pleaded with her, but it was too late.

The wolf leaped right at Sierra, and I had no choice but to grab her wrist, pull her out of the way, and run, dragging her, stumbling at first, along.

In the panic, I tripped over some roots, and Sierra kept going, and the wolf swerved around to face me, and it started biting at me as I started dragging myself back with my hands...Until I felt my back against a tree...

I held my hands in front of my face, squeezing my eyes shut, bracing myself for the wolf's attack...

_Anything but the face! _I thought...

Suddenly, I heard a loud _Wham! _and then a whimper, and I felt the wolf collapse on my legs.

"Come on!" Sierra screamed, forcing me up by my arm.

And we ran. We ran like the wind... I think you could compare us to light speed, that's how fast we were running. No, of course we weren't thinking of getting lost at the moment-try the visual of a wolf tearing my pretty face right off the bones! Our survival instincts had kicked in, and were telling us to run, run, run! The adrenaline didn't help much on the part of rational thinking, either.

We kept running until we came across a huge, mossy boulder, and we just about toppled over each other to get behind it. We fell to our knees, panting and choking, and the panic and adrenaline started wearing off.

"Sierra," I wheezed. "Are you-okay?"

She nodded, sweat pouring down her face, and took a deep breath and leaned against the mossy rock. "So cool...," she murmured, wistfully. "And soft..." (Her cheek was resting against some of the thickly growing moss.)

I looked around, trying to decipher where we were...

"Oh-no...," I said, starting to panic again...

"What?" Sierra asked, still slightly panting.

"Where are we?"

Sierra took in a sharp, shallow gasp. "No, no... We-We can't be lost!" Tears started welling up in her eyes.

"We're not lost," I said, rather forcefully... Trying to get that idea through her head... Staring in those light brown eyes... She just whimpered. "But..."

"But nothing. We're _not _lost."

I was trying to be a... leader... I was trying to keep her, one of my best friends, calm... But to no avail.

Sierra choked out, after a moment of her about hyperventilating, "What if that wolf comes back?"

I shushed her. "Don't be so loud!" I talked in a whisper-yell. "He'll find us if you're that loud."

"No," Sierra insisted, quieter now. "Wolves have a very good sense of smell... It would find us even if we were quiet as mice..."

I inwardly rolled my eyes... God, I love Sierra, but her constant lecturing on the indigenous animals of the northern-American and Canadian wood is one of the most annoying things about her. (That had stopped since the last time I saw her, though. She must have outgrown it.)

"Sierra, look. I'm trying to _help_ you here."

She sort of glared at me in response. "Fine, I'll shut up." There was a certain stubbornness to her tone, like a child throwing a temper-tantrum. That was another annoying aspect about her-The way she got so feisty when angered.

I just sighed, thinking to myself, _What's the point of fighting with her?_

"Look, why don't we just try to find our way back to to the trail?"

Sierra just nodded, a slight glare in her eyes. I offered her my hand, nonetheless, and she took it.

"Which way?" she asked me.

Honestly, I had no idea... Or any way to know... But I didn't want to worry Sierra any more than she already was... Maybe I even wanted to impress her a little bit, so I didn't show on my face that I was just as clueless as she was. I said, "Just follow me," and started walking... I kept telling myself we'd _have _to come across the trail sooner or later, right?...

I mean, how big could these woods be?...

(A/N: End "flashback")

And THAT is how we ended up in this situation. She looked at me, and said, "Sorry for acting like such a baby... I just... I'm really scared..."

I stared into her pretty brown eyes... "Sierra, I'm sorry for snapping at you like that... I really am. You weren't acting like a baby, I was acting immature." This time I meant it. How could I not?

"We both were acting childish..." Sierra said, her freckled face lighting up with a smile. "But, James?"

"Huh?"

"... We've passed this same stream three times already..." She didn't say it in a mean way... She was just trying to let me know.

I groaned silently...

"James?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I know..."

"Well, why don't go in another direction?..." She trailed off, with a hollow expression on her face, then gasped. "Wait, I can't believe I didn't think of this before!"

"What?" I asked.

"James, your compass! You have your compass, right?..."

I smacked my forehead, not because I didn't have have it, but because I didn't think of that sooner. Duh...

I started looking in my pocket for it... Where I'd known I'd put it...

Oh-no... You know that feeling you get when your teacher says, "Homework's due," for an assignment you forgot all about?... Well, that's the exact feeling I got when I realized the compass _wasn't in my pocket_...

I stuck my hand in my other pocket. It wasn't there either...

Then I swung my plaid backpack off my shoulders, and desperately started rummaging through it...

Sierra was staring at me with large, expectant eyes... You know, that type of stare that makes you all nervous and makes you think you're going to let someone down. But I couldn't let her down. I just couldn't...

But without a compass, we were completely lost...

"Well?" Sierra's voice broke into my thoughts.

I dumped the backpack on the ground. Water bottles, trail mix and granola bars, my lucky comb, and my songbook, (Which I carried around everywhere) and the scavenger hunt list... Even our map of the forest fell out onto the forest floor... And that was, need I remind you, completely useless without a _compass_...

I grasped my hair, ready to pull it out out of frustration. (Then I realized exactly what I was thinking of doing, jumped a little, let go of my hair, and smoothed it out, real gently.)

"Well?..." Sierra said, again.

"I-I... I had it, but when that wolf came at me, I must have dropped it or it... f-fell out of my pocket or something..."

Sierra groaned. "Well what do we do now?" She plopped down on a nearby rock.

"Maybe we could try to figure out where we are on the map, and then figure out where to go from there..." I opened up the map.

"How are we supposed to know where we are, though? That's the problem... That's what the problem has _been_ since the wolf chased us out here."

"Well, I don't know... Maybe we could look for a distinguishing landmark or something..."

"What _distinguishing landmarks _are there in a forest, James?"

"I don't know! The wild strawberry patch and a mulberry bush?" The sarcasm in my voice was clear. "But there has to be something we can do." My voice was serious now. "I mean, we can't just sit here and sulk..."

I murmured in what I thought was an inaudible tone, "That's not what Kendall would do."

"Who?"

I looked up from the map. "Kendall Knight. He's one of my best friends from back at home."

"What's he like?" Sierra asked, genuinely curious. I felt a slight pang of jealousy in my chest. I hoped it didn't show on my face.

"Well, he's a _really _great hockey player. I mean, we've gotten darn near fist-fights over whose team he'd be on when we play two-on-two hockey together. And he's a natural born leader. Like, everything that happens, every scheme we concoct, he's the one to motivate us to keep going and the one who keeps us all together as friends."

I paused for a moment, subtly surveying Sierra's expression: Just interest. No lovey-dovey, day-dreamy expression at all.

Good.

I then commented, "But man, he has the biggest eyebrows you would ever see!"

She smiled. "Tell me more about your other friends."

"Okay," I replied. "There's Carlos Garcia, and he's real... nice..." I trailed off. I'd wanted to say another word, which would have been more accurate, but... Sierra got it.

"Real sweet?" she asked.

I chuckled, and answered, "Yeah, exactly. And he's a real fun guy to be around. If you're with him, I can _guarantee _you that you'll never, ever be bored. He's a real daredevil, though. I'm not entirely sure if that's necessarily a _good _thing, but hey, he sure is fun."

I paused for a moment, considering my wording.

"Now Logan, Logan Mitchell... He is the polar opposite of Carlos. He always thinks things through, and is always so calm and collected. He's always concerned about getting in trouble. And he's really-I mean _really_-smart. He's like the clique "brain" of our group."

I commented, after another moment of thought, "We're like brothers. It doesn't matter if we're blood related or not, you know?"

"Yeah," Sierra answered, wistfully. "I wish I had friends like that."

"Don't you?" I asked.

"Mmm..." She has this 'I don't want to be rude, but want to say 'no'' look on her face.

"What does that mean?" I asked, not crudely.

"Well," she responded, "Everyone back home picks on me, and these snotty girls at school always embarrass me and stuff... And everyone else goes along with it, because they're scared of them."

"_Why_ would anyone make fun of you?" I asked. "You're kind, pretty, and smart, and I'm _honored _to have a friend like you."

"Thank you," Sierra said with a smile. I smiled back. Then she frowned. "They make fun of me because I don't do well in school. They always call me stupid and slow and stuff..."

"Why don't you do well in school?" I asked. I immediately wished I could have taken it back, because she looked a little hurt. I quickly added, "I'm sorry-I just-I didn't mean it like an insult."

"No, no, it's okay," she replied. She sighed. "But the reason I don't do well in school is because I have dyslexia, and it's a lot harder for me to read..."

"I didn't know you have dyslexia," I said. "And it's wrong of those kids to make fun of you for something like that."

A long minute of silence passed between us, which Sierra broke, with a grin. "But you know, we can't just sit here and sulk, right?"

I grinned, too. "Agreed."

I stood up and stretched. Sierra followed suit. "Which way?" she asked.

"Hmm..." I thought it about it for a moment, staring at the running water of the stream... Huh... An idea hit me. "You know what? I think it would be smart to just follow the stream."

"Yeah," Sierra replied. "But still, which way?" She added, before I could even respond, "We are NOT splitting up."

"I never said we were," I replied. "We should just go in the direction of the current..." I let her fill in the rest.

"...Because the forest slopes downhill..."

We finished it off together. "And once we're out of the forest, we'll be able to find our way back easier!"

"James, that's genius!"

We high-fived, glad to finally have a solution to our problem.

Sierra and I stooped down, and started gathering my stuff up. In the process, she came across my songbook. At the time, I'd taken to simply writing down the lyrics to my favorite songs, and singing them to my friends. "What's this?"

"That's my songbook," I replied, as I dusted out my lucky comb, the last thing on the ground, and tossed in my backpack (but not before sweeping through my hair once).

"Why don't you sing me something?"

"Uh..." I blushed. Believe it or not, there was actually a time in my life in which I was a little shy to sing in front of other people.

"Come on, don't be shy," Sierra said. "Look, I'll sing something for you."

Then she started singing a song that I had, before she sang it to me, thought was extremely annoying. "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." I don't care what you think, she made it sound good.

I mean, I'd heard her sing before, at like, bonfires and stuff... But never solo. She was really, really good.

"That was great!" I commented, once she was done.

"Thanks, you really think so?"

"Yeah!"

Sierra smiled at me. "Now you sing something."

I blushed, but then nodded. "Okay, here goes nothing..." I opened my book up to a random page, and sang two lines in that song-"It's My Life" by Bon Jovi.

"'_And I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd; You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud..._'" I held the note on _loud _flawlessly.

"James, that was amazing!" Sierra praised.

"Thanks," I replied, modestly. "Well, we should probably get going. Look at how dark it's already getting..." How long had we been gone?

"I don't think it's very safe to walk around in the woods at night...," Sierra noted. I nodded in agreement, and she shivered. "It's starting to get cold, too."

Now, I know what you're thinking. Even in the summer, these bordering-Canadian nights can get _pretty _cold. Especially if there's a cold front coming through, which, smelling the rain, there probably was.

So, we started making our way down the stream. Further, further... And the further along we got, the darker it got... And colder. It got a lot colder, quick.

"J-James, I c-can't see anything..." Sierra said eventually, shivering.

"I kn-know..." I responded, just as cold and shivering as she was. Where's the moonlight when you need it?

"D-do you think w-we sh-should just st-stop for the night? You know m-make a f-fire, and we-we could dr-draw atten-attention to ourselves, t-too..."

So, about 15 minutes later, we were sitting around a small, handmade fire. You know, the whole "rub two sticks together to make a fire" thing really works. You just have to be patient.

I continuously rubbed my hand, which was burning and itchy. I assumed it was a spider bite, from when we were gathering firewood. I was starting to feel a little light-headed and dizzy, too... Maybe I was starting to catch a cold?

"James, are you okay?" Sierra asked. I looked up, feeling like I was going to hurl just by moving my head that little bit, and she had a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine...," I breathed.

A long moment passed, and I quickly started feeling worse...

Why was it getting so hard to breathe? Why was everything going all fuzzy, and dark?...

"N-No..." Even saying that hurt. "I'm not-fine..." I took in a deep breath, and everything started spinning.

"_JAMES!_" I heard Sierra scream. That's the last thing I remember before passing out.

_Sierra's Perspective_

I shouted at the top of my lungs, "_JAMES!_" as he fell over, unconscious. I got up and ran over to him, resting my hand on his cheek. He was cold. Like ice. I took off my light jacket, and wrapped it around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Come on, James...," I cooed, starting to cry. "Stay with me... Please..."

That's when I heard the voices, calling our names. "James? Sierra? Where are you?"

I took in a deep breath, and screamed, "HELP!"

I sobbed into James's hair. "Please, please, don't leave me... You're the best friend I've ever had... And I can't live without you... Please..."

That's when I heard Ms. Macey, one of the camp administrators, come running over, flashlight shining on James, who was pale, and clammy, and _struggling to breathe_...

"Please, help him...," I cried, softly. I felt like I was in a dream-like trance. Like any moment, I'd wake up, and this would be over.

I suddenly felt someone try to peel me off of James. "No, no!" I screamed. "NO!" I started thrashing around in the person's grasp, and I heard him say, "Sierra, just calm down!"

"NO!" I reached out for James, but the person who took me away from him held me back. Then he pulled me into an embrace. "No, no...," I sobbed into his chest. He picked me up, and started carrying me back to the camp. Somewhere along the way, I fell asleep...

I woke up the next morning (Right?) with a cool, damp rag on my face, a scarf around my neck, and the covers pulled up to my neck. My throat and face felt like they were on fire.

"Hello?" I rasped. It hurt to talk. I whimpered.

Then last night's events came rushing through my mind.

"James!" I shouted, then groaned and rubbed my throat through the scarf, threw the covers off my body, shivering, because now I was really cold, and the fever didn't help.

But I still had to get out, and see if James was okay! But that never happened, because I ran straight into Ms. Macey as she was coming in.

"Whoa, Sierra, where do you think you're going?"

I started crying, and said, simply, "James."

Ms. Macey's face dropped at the mention of his name, like she was holding off telling me something that was really, really bad. What exactly did that mean? Did that mean he?...

…

No! NO!

"No, he can't be..." Tears started pouring down my face, I started panicking, and I started hyperventilating, all the same second. … And my body didn't care how much it hurt my throat or my head.

"Sierra, honey," Ms. Macey said, "Calm down. James is okay."

I started to calm down, but the tears still came. "Really?"

Ms. Macey nodded. "He's fine. You called for us just in time. If you hadn't, we may not have found you two in time. … But his mom was really mad, drove up here, picked him up, and brought him home. And I don't think he's coming back. Lay back down, okay? You were out all day yesterday."

Truthfully, I wanted to lay back down, because I felt like I was going to collapse right then and there, especially when she said I was asleep all day yesterday... So I did what she said.

"You got pretty sick there. Matthew said you already had a fever when we found you guys, and then it started raining, which made it worse for you." Ms. Macey pulled the covers up for me.

(Matthew was the person who carried me back, in case you didn't know.)

"Are you hungry?" she asked me. I nodded.

"I'll go get you some soup, okay?"

I nodded. Once Ms. Macey walked out, I caught sight of something on my side table. It was a piece of folded up notebook paper with James's lovely signature facing up. I picked it up, and opened it up.

It was a letter. To me, from James.

But I... I couldn't read it... Not easily, anyway. But I attempted to, squinting my eyes at it.

"... Dear Sierra..." That part was easy only because it was obvious what he wrote there. "... I'm... os..." No, that's not right. "I'm... so... Rosry?" This was pointless. I couldn't read this, with my dyslexia on top of my headache...

Then Ms. Macey came in with my soup, saw me with the letter, and said, "James asked me to read that you. Why didn't you tell anyone you have dyslexia, honey?"

"... Because people make fun of me for it."

"Well I won't. Here, I brought you some chicken soup. I'll read it to you after you eat, okay?"

"Thank you."

I didn't realize how hungry I was until I actually started eating, and I devoured that bowl of soup.

Ms. Macey chuckled. "You must have been quite hungry, dear."

I nodded.

She gestured to the letter, giving me a look, like, 'Are you ready?'. I nodded.

Here's how the letter went:

_Dear Sierra,_

_I'm so sorry for not saying good-bye to you in person, and having to write you a letter, knowing you have dyslexia. I really am, but I had no choice but to, because my mom was really mad about what happened. The getting lost thing... And, what happened, was... A poisonous spider bit me on my hand three times in a row... And I am... really, just... SOOO grateful you were there for me. You saved my life more than once in those woods, and I'll never be able to make up for it._

_My mom... Well, she's not letting me come back. I'm sorry, I really am. I tried convincing her otherwise, that what happened was just a unfortunate accident, and that it was more my fault than anyone's. But she said the adults here were irresponsible for letting us in there alone to begin with... She just didn't understand the whole point behind that._

_And she was mad at you, too. Why? I don't know. You didn't do anything. But she's irrational when she's angry, and said that I couldn't see you again, either. I yelled at her for that one, but... That didn't change anything. That just made her temper worse..._

_I wish... I wish things were different. But, unfortunately, they aren't. And I have one favor to ask of you, and that's not to wallow over me. I want you to live your life, and be happy. Because... And you don't know how hard it is for me to write this, but we probably won't ever see each other again._

… _Please just know that I'll never forget you. And that you'll always be one of my best friends. … And I hate this, I hate everything about it-Except for the fact that I was able to become so close to you. Please promise you'll never forget me, either. _

… _And, Sierra? I really think you should pursue a career in singing. You were really, really good, and I HATE Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star... But you made it sound good._

_Good-bye, Sierra. I'm really sorry for this whole mess._

_Your Best Friend,_

_James Diamond._

I was crying by the end. Not just crying, sobbing. Tears were pouring down my face like a waterfall. And it hurt, not just my throat, not just my head... My heart.

Ms. Macey told me to try and get some more sleep, but I hardly heard her.

He was _gone_. And I'd never see him again. _NEVER!_ And... He was my best friend... My _only friend... _And I'd never see him again...

That thought kept repeating itself over and over again in my head... But eventually, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep...

_James's Perspective_

"Honey, I know you're mad at me, but you have to get out eventually," my mom growled at me, once we were in the driveway of our house. I was sitting there, just sitting there. With my head against the window.

I glared at her. "You took her. Away from me."

"I did that so you wouldn't get hurt again," she said simply, but forcefully. Like she wanted to yell at me, but was trying to control herself. I don't know why she didn't yell at me, because I sure did yell at her.

"_AND YOU THINK I'M NOT HURTING RIGHT NOW? DO YOU KNOW HOW CLOSE SHE WAS TO ME?_"

My mom just glared at me, whipped around, and stormed inside, slamming her door shut. Let's just say we started growing apart after this...

I grabbed my backpack and suitcase, and climbed out, set my stuff on the side of the van, closed the door, grabbed my backpack, and went and sat on the curb. I pulled my knees to my chin, buried my face in my knees, and cried.

"James?..." I heard a familiar voice ask, hesitantly. Kendall. He lived right across the street. I didn't look up. But I could feel his gaze burning a hole in my head, so I looked up, forcing myself to stop the tears.

"What are you doing home so soon?" Kendall asked. "I thought you weren't supposed to come back until August." (It was the middle of July right then.)

He looked concerned. Really concerned. I still must have looked kind of sick from my ordeal. "James, are you okay?"

I shook my head. "No."

"What's wrong? You look kind of-"

"I know," I said, before he could even say it, because he was either going to say "sad" or "sick," and I looked both.

Kendall sat down next to me. "What happened to your hand?" he asked.

"A spider...," I answered.

"A spider bit you so hard you needed gauze wrapped around your hand to heal it?" he asked in a skeptical tone.

I turned my head to look at him, still resting it on my knees. "A brown recluse spider bit me three times right there, and I almost died."

His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened. "Oh... I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know."

I shook my head. "It's okay."

I moment of silence, and I started crying again.

"Seriously, what's bothering you?" Kendall rested a hand on my shoulder.

I moaned. "There was somebody at the camp who was, literally, I'm not kidding or exaggerating, just as close to me as you, or Carlos, or Logan, and I can't see her again."

"Why?" Kendall asked.

"My mom was mad." Enough was said for him to get it. Trust me.

Kendall hugged me. He knew how close we were, and how if something happened to us, and we weren't able to see each other, we'd all be very depressed, too... (Did that make sense? I don't really care...)

"What's her name?" he asked me.

"Sierra. Sierra Dianne," I answered. "And she was... Wonderful. Smart, pretty, and talented, and fun, and kind, and... Just about anything you could ever want in a person!" I cried on Kendall's shoulder.

(There was nothing "romantic" about that, either...)

"And I'll never see her again, Kendall! Do you know what it feels like?"

"Brokenhearted?" he suggested.

I nodded.

Kendall let me cry for a good while, then, once I stopped, stated, but more like a question, "I could go get the others, and we could play some hockey to get your mind off of it?"

I shook my head. "Not hockey, not yet... I do still feel a little... From the... You know..."

"Oh... Well, we could watch a movie or something..."

"I don't want to face my mom yet."

"We don't have to go in your house. We could go in my house-My mom would gladly have you over." He said, after I didn't reply, "Your pick."

I nodded. "That sounds nice."

So, Kendall, always knowing what to do to make me feel better, called Carlos and Logan, and told them in short terms what had happened, and asked if they could come over. They said, "Yes," of course.

Within 10 minutes, we were all lounging in Kendall's living room, intently watching _Grease_, my favorite movie ever. It felt good to be surrounded by my friends for life, who understood me in ways others didn't... ("Others" not including Sierra, of course...)

… But I was still never able to get over her... Not entirely, anyway...

… But there is something I think you should know...

"_... but we probably won't ever see each other again. ..._" I was wrong about that. Big Time.

**Five thousand. Two hundred. And sixty-two words. (Not including the before and after notes or title and information, in bold.) 5262 WORDS! That's the longest I've ever written, like, five times the length of a normal one-shot! You know what, I'm sorry for the length of this whole "chapter" altogether. … But please. Leave a thoughtful review. Tell me what I can improve on. I love reviews that actually give me something to work on, even more than a one statement, "This is a great story!" or vice-versa. **

**Song lyrics used: "It's My Life" by Bon Jovi. **

**I'm going to try, for all of these, to put a quote or lyric that could pertain to the story before each story... But I don't promise that for every one. ^^;**

**Thank you for reading! =^_^=**


	2. A Living Hell

**A Living Hell**

_A Sierra, Ryan, and James Fiction_

Based on the characters created by Scott Fellows and Madison H.P.

**Summary**: "I still had my hand on my eye, and it was soaked in a thick coating of blood... And my hair was all crusted over in dried blood and vomit..." He did this to me... That bastard...

**Genre(s)**: Angst/Crime (?)/Family/Hurt/Comfort/Mild Friendship

**Ages**: Sierra: 16

Ryan: 18

James: 17

**Rating**: M

**Warning(s)**: Language; Violence; Gore (Some pretty gross visuals in this one.); Alcohol abuse; Sexual reference(s)/Scene(s)

**See Chapter(s)**: "Lost"

**Ah... This is quite... Different... From the first one. … Here, we introduce another important character in this... Ryan. In the summary, is she referring to James or Ryan? I don't know. Read. Find out.**

**Oh, and before you read this one, I am perfectly aware of all the punctuation "mistakes" in this. They were done purposely, to try and get something across.**

**P.S. This is less (more?) than half the length of the first one, so... Yeah. And, the lyrics below; I am perfectly aware they are not in the correct order, in relation to the whole song, but I didn't deem it wort it to type the whole song for the two lines that actually pertain to this story.**

"_If you only knew; I'm hanging by a thread the web I spin for you..._

_If you only knew; How I refuse to let you go even when you're gone..._"

– "If You Only Knew" by Shinedown

_Sierra's Perspective_

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "RYAN! I SWEAR TO GOD! IF YOU DON'T UNLOCK THIS DAMN DOOR!" I kicked at the door.

He'd locked me in the closet. This had been the third that week he'd done it.

Let me tell you something right now: Ryan was real sweet when I first met him and "fell in love" with him. He took me places, paid for my dinners, been a real gentlemen, holding doors open for me, and stuff, and he always told me how beautiful and sweet I was. He'd been real selfless and... Well, sweet.

But then his mom died... And he was depressed for several weeks. And you know, when you love someone, you're _supposed_ to stick with them through thick and thin, _right? _

And then-then the boy came across his first bottle of beer... And. He. Was. Never. The same. He'd drink ANYTHING alcoholic, whether it'd be beer, or vodka, or liquor... Anything he could find to get himself wasted, stumbling over himself, mumbling incoherently, _waking up in his own bile_...

I don't think there had been a day since his first bottle of beer where Ryan hadn't either been completely wasted or hungover... And you think that's bad? Try a combination of both...

… And he took. My phone. Before locking me in here. So could I call my mom and dad to come save me from this living hell? NO!

"RYAN!" I shouted, kicking at the door even harder than the first time.

"SHUT UP, BITCH!" Ryan's voice shouted from the other side.

I screamed at him. Didn't say anything, just screamed. I pounded the door with my feet again.

"I SAID TO SHUT UP!"

I growled, willing myself to give it a rest for a moment...

Huh... You want to know something else? James would have NEVER done anything like this to me! Wait, wait... Wait just one moment...

WHY. DOES MY MIND. ALWAYS GO BACK TO JAMES? He was GONE! All because of some stupid accident, and his bitch of a mother who took him from me. MAYBE. IF THAT HADN'T EVER HAPPENED. I WOULDN'T BE IN THIS MESS RIGHT NOW! But there was nothing either of us could do about it... So, when he hurt me, it wasn't. His. Fault.

Ryan, on the other hand... Yeah, yeah... EVERYTHING that had been happening to me then was HIS fault. It was HIS fault for the bruises that covered my whole body, forcing me to wear pants and long-sleeved shirts everywhere and at all times. It was HIS fault for the fact that I was locked up in a closet, with no way to get help, given anything happened to me. It was HIS fault for even my fucking state of mind right now.

And I was going to die in here. Alone. And no one would know until they came across my rotting remains that would become the source of the rancid smell of _death_.

And James... He wouldn't even know, and he wanted me to have a _happy life. _WHY COULDN'T I GET JAMES OUT OF MY HEAD?

"MAKE IT STOP!" I cried at the top of my lungs, tears pouring down my cheeks.

I was going _insane_... I could feel my mentality slipping away...

Suddenly the door to the closet swung open, the light burning my eyes...

And there HE. Stood. The devil. In a black-haired-blue-eyed disguise. HE. Took the half-full vodka bottle in his hand and swung it at my head, shattering it, and soaking my hair and face in the horrible liquid that was now controlling the THING. That controlled ME.

_Has anyone ever told you how much alcohol BURNS?_

I screamed as it seeped into my eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to wash it all out by crying...

"I said shut up, bitch!"

I groaned.

"ANSWER ME!"

"I'll be quiet...," I said, in a whisper.

Could he just leave me alone? One guess: NO. Instead of locking me back up, he grabbed the bottom piece of the bottle, which was broken off, but still in tact, and shoved the jagged pieces in my face.

I screamed. _How could he not expect me to scream?_...

My eye, my eye... It was stabbing my eye...

"STOP IT!" I screamed.

He pulled it away, which made my face sting even more. I grasped my bleeding eye with my hand. I couldn't see out of it...

I longed for all this to be over with already...

But, nooo... I can't just have one thing go right for me. Instead of leaving me be in my own blood and sweat, he got down on me...

_And ripped my clothes off... _

And he... He took off his, too...

"No," I cried quietly. "I don't want to..." I was still a virgin, and I didn't want anything to happen to me... "No, please..." But my efforts were futile.

"Who cares if YOU want to?" he half-growled, half-laughed at me. "You're going to die anyway..." That bitter smell of alcohol and vomit made me want to puke.

… And he raped me. And it hurt... I don't even know how long he did it, but it hurt. I mean, my body was already bruised. I didn't need some 200 pound guy pushing on it.

But I couldn't fight him. He was too strong. And I was too weak. So what was the point? Too kill me even faster?

Eventually, he was satisfied. He got up, and left, locking the door again. And this time, he took my clothes _and _my phone.

And I was cold. There was a horrible draft on the hardwood floors in the Canadian winter...

(My family had moved to Canada when I was 13. Something about my dad's job...)

I felt around... Maybe there was a blanket or something I could wrap up in.

And guess what? After all THIS, I finally got a lucky break. There was a fur blanket in there, and I wrapped up in the warm furry side. I curled up into a shivering, shaking... bloody and battered ball...

I threw up several times before the night was over... I was crying so hard. And I didn't even know what time it was... I could have been in here for two days, and I wouldn't have even known...

The night slowly, slowly... Ever so slowly... Slipped by...

I drifted into some quite uneasy slumbers once or twice... Maybe three times... They were short, though... Like trying to sleep on top of a 104 degree fever...

But while I was asleep, and I find this very ironic, I didn't have nightmares of drunk dudes with glass bottles...

I dreamed of James. I dreamed of that time we were playing hide-and-seek in a sunflower field that we went to the year I was 5 and he was 6. I dreamed of one time, when we were about 9, when we cannon-balled into Lake Superior. I dreamed of that time, when I was 11, and he was 12... We sung to each other in the woods...

It's bad when you _want _to fall asleep and dream just so you can escape the living world...

I sat there, awake, after my last dream. I wasn't crying anymore. I'd given that up. It was making me feel even worse.

But then I heard someone outside... Oh-no... He'd come back...

But wait... That was a woman's voice... I pressed my ear to the door. (Yes, still grasping my bad eye, though it wasn't bleeding anymore...)

"Sierra?"

"Sierra, honey, where are you?"

"Are you in here?"

It was my mom and dad, and I literally cried from joy.

I thumped the door a few times to let them know I was in there.

And a few seconds later, the door opened. Slowly, hesitantly... Like they were afraid of what they would find, and of course, they should have been.

The longest two seconds of my life.

And my mom screamed. "Roger, call 9-1-1! Now!"

My hand had a thick layer of dried blood on it from my eye, and my hair must have been caked with vomit and blood, but my mom pulled me into a teary embrace nonetheless.

I survived my ordeal, thankfully. But I was blind, permanently, out of my right eye, the one that was stabbed. And I met new friends, and had an overall happy life after this, give or take a few times when... HE. Would show up again...

But at that moment, I was still scared. And I felt like there were only three people in the world who cared about me. There was my mom, Kayla, who was hugging me, and crying for me, and saying how sorry she was, but for what, I didn't know. And there was my dad, Roger, who was yelling and cursing, red from anger, at the operator to get an ambulance and police down there. And there was James, who, though wasn't here now, I knew would be by my side as fast as possible, if only he knew...

And it was at that moment, that, as soon as I could, I needed to leave this place. For a good while, anyway. I was almost 17. I had my life's savings, and my driver's license. I could escape this place... And be free...

I could go to Minnesota, and find James. I could go to New York, or Miami, or Vegas... You know, those places they always talk about being the best places for fun, and adventure, and excitement...

Or, I could go to LA-Los Angeles. Hollywood. And follow my dreams of becoming a singer.

But first, I'd have to plan this out...

I was on the stretcher now, and my my mom was there, holding my hand, still mumbling that she was so, so sorry for something that wasn't her fault. All the while the doctors were checking me out, finding out exactly what was wrong with me. Monitoring everything.

And I'd have to do this secretly... I'd have to _lie_ to my parents... Not just little lies, either. Big lies. The kind that you don't forgive people for... And that was the scariest part of my plan...

We were moving then... To go to the hospital.

And I'd have to, _have to_, find James...

To let him know how I feel about him, that I couldn't ever forget him, and that it was driving me insane. To tell him my idea, to follow our dreams...

Yeah, that would be nice... I was in a day-dreamy state now... Not hearing anything but my thoughts. Me and James, singing together... Making a living from it... Spending the rest of our lives together...

And on that happy, last note, I fell asleep on the stretcher. … If only he knew.

**Was that angsty enough for you? Sorry for that sudden close there, I couldn't think of anything else... I think you were able to figure out the summary-You know, who Sierra was referring to, by the very first lines... And I thought I was going to write something from James's perspective before this was over, but THAT, I decided, is another story, but based entirely off this one. Please review! And thank you for reading!**


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